


Simple Twist of Fate

by howtowasteamoment



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Soccer AU, Step brother's best friend, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 10:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtowasteamoment/pseuds/howtowasteamoment
Summary: Step-brother's best friend / Soccer AU no one asked for...Clarke and Lincoln are step-siblings, much to their dismay. Lexa is best friends with Lincoln and the captain of the school's soccer team. Clarke is also on the school's soccer team but plays second-string. Octavia drools over Clarke's step-brother every chance she gets. And Raven competes for the spot in the goal against the first-string keeper, Anya.





	Simple Twist of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear reader!  
> Been out of the fanfic game for a while, so go easy on me. I needed to get back into writing and this strange idea for a Clexa fanfic has been collecting dust for some time, so thought I'd give it a shot. I have no idea if the dynamics of this AU will work or not, but here goes nothing.

Clarke’s breath is forming small clouds in the evening air as if she’s turned into a cloud-breathing dragon. 

There’s a spark of fire within her when she sees the other girl run towards her and her feet start to move. She’s going to meet the girl halfway, as they both know she will. 

A few strides before Clarke reaches her, the other girl plants her left foot to the right, but instead of continuing in that direction, she accelerates to the left and moves quickly past her before Clarke even realizes what happened. She grits her teeth, and as the frustration builds up inside of her, she takes after the other girl, determined to catch up with her. 

Already knowing it’s too late, Clarke slides across the grass, causing the other girl to tumble down onto the muddy grass with her, making the whistle blow dramatically in the air a second later. 

“That’s a foul, Griffin,” Coach Titus says and points to the penalty line.  

Clarke almost feels bad, but then she’s sure she sees the tiniest smirk on the other girl’s face, and the feeling quickly fades away. 

“Still not quick enough, kiddo,” the girl says as she stands up and walks over to the penalty line where Coach Titus throws her the ball. Clarke feels like sliding across the grass again, just for good measure. 

“You’re literally one year older than me, Lexa. One year,” Clarke can’t help but say as she gets up too and walks over to Octavia, her team’s striker. Lexa, of course, ignores her entirely while she puts the ball on the line and prepares to take the shot. 

“Go, Raven!” Octavia yells to their keeper, “You got this!” 

“She does?” Clarke can’t help but ask. 

“Not a chance,” Octavia answers just as Lexa hammers the ball into the left corner and walks away like she never shed a drop of sweat during the practice match. She doesn’t even give Clarke’s team the respect of celebrating the goal. Then again, that was goal number ‘who cares’ during that match. 

“Gather around, players,” Coach Titus calls from the sideline, thankfully ending the game before Clarke would have to look behind every grass root to find her dignity. 

“Some of you may question why I made you play against each other on the field today. The start of the season is only a few months away, and I know most of you are hoping to make it to the first-string.” 

Clarke, Raven, and Octavia share a look during their Coach’s words. All three of them are hoping to make it to the first-string this year so college scouts will take note of them before their senior year. With Lexa and the other seniors, though, it isn’t looking good. 

“The match today was a show of strength, of discipline,” Coach Titus continues, “It was to show exactly what it takes if you want to make it to first-string. _Clearly_ ,” he says, and as if Lexa knows what he’s about to say, Clarke feels her eyes on her, “There’s a long way to go, if there are to be any changes to the first-string before the season starts,” Clarke immediately regrets returning Lexa’s stoic gaze, “Now, hit the showers.” 

Everyone starts making their way to the locker rooms, Clarke’s team clearly defeated from today’s match against the first-stringers and the less than motivating speech from their Coach. Clarke wants to say something encouraging, but no words will form in her mouth. 

“ _Great_ match today, little Griffin,” Anya, the first-stringers' keeper, comments when she walks past Clarke, “ _So_ close.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Anya,” Raven fires back with no fire at all. At least Anya only chuckles before she speeds up a little to catch up with Lexa. 

“I hate those two,” Raven says once they’re out of earshot. 

“Those _three_ ,” Clarke corrects, as she watches her step-brother run over to the two girls from the opposite field where the guys had been practicing. They’re like three peas in a pod. 

“At least he’s hot,” Octavia comments, her eyes clearly turned down past appropriate. 

“If I ever hear you say that again, I will cut off your shooting foot in your sleep,” Clarke smiles coldly, making Octavia freeze in her step and Raven let out a laugh before she follows behind Clarke. 

“I was only joking,” they hear Octavia say before she speeds up and joins them again. 

“Yeah, right,” Raven laughs, making Clarke roll her eyes. 

When they enter the locker rooms, they find their stuff and start changing out of their sweaty, cold clothes. It will be a while still before the weather starts to get warmer again, and Clarke can’t wait to get under the hot water. 

The sound of metal hitting the floor makes most of the players turn their heads towards the adjoining small gym. As she often is, Lexa is the only one in there, doing strength training after their soccer practice. She’s standing in only her shorts and a sports bra, more or less inviting people to look at her toned stomach. 

“Guess we know why she’s first-string, and we’re not,” Raven says, butt-naked, and grabs her shower stuff before she’s off to the showers. 

Clarke shakes off the image of Lexa’s abs, “I do strength training too,” she says, as she grabs her own stuff and follows Raven, “Sometimes.” 

“Yeah, but you also like cake,” Octavia cuts in as she joins them in the showers, making Raven laugh and almost swallow water because of it. 

Clarke narrows her eyes at Octavia and grabs the wet skin on her stomach, “Are you telling me I should lose weight?” 

“No,” Octavia smiles while already rinsing her hair of shampoo before Clarke has even begun her shower routine, “But I have also never heard you say no to cake.” 

“Why would anyone ever say no to cake?” Clarke smiles. 

“Case and point,” Raven concludes the discussion before all three girls break out laughing.

* * *

“You’re going to turn into a raisin if you don’t get out of that shower soon,” Raven says from the lockers once her and Octavia are all clean and ready to go. 

“Wanna bet?” Clarke calls out from under the water. 

“Sure, unfortunately, I don’t have time to stick around and watch your skin wrinkle,” Raven answers and blows her a kiss, “See you tomorrow, Griffin.” 

“You’re no fun,” Clarke smiles to the two other girls standing in the entrance to the showers, “See you tomorrow, guys.” 

Octavia and Raven are some of the last players to leave the locker rooms, and once Clarke fails to hear any of her other teammates, she closes her eyes to rinse out the conditioner in her hair and starts to sing out loud. 

“Great voice, little Griffin,” a familiar voice says, making Clarke freeze in the shower because she’s quite certain who it belongs to, “Do not stop on my account.” 

Clarke gazes to the right, and as she fears, Lexa stands with her eyes closed and her front towards the wall a few showers down. Clarke has never felt uncomfortable getting changed or showering with the other girls, she has never even given it much thought apart from when they were younger, and some started to get hair places, and others didn’t. There’s something about being in the showers with Lexa now that makes her chest redden far more than the hot water does. 

“I thought everyone left already,” Clarke answers, and turns her front toward the wall, same as Lexa. She forgot someone has a habit of staying late to work on her abs. 

Lexa doesn’t answer, so Clarke doesn’t know what else to say. The conditioner is all rinsed out, so in theory, she could just turn off the shower and start drying off. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stands where she’s stood for the past 35 minutes and shoots glances at Lexa’s back while the water keeps running down her own body. Clarke tells herself that it’s okay because she’s only envying the other girl’s physique. 

“Raven is right, you know,” Lexa says suddenly and turns off the water, “You’ll turn into a raisin sooner rather than later.” 

She quickly grabs her towel then and walks out of the showers with her eyes turned down, not glancing at Clarke once. Clarke’s cheeks redden again, much to her annoyance, when she realizes she has been standing in the showers way past appropriate. 

Clarke finally turns off the water grabs her own towel and follows Lexa to the lockers. Fortunately, their stuff is in completely opposite sides of the locker room so Clarke can only some faint shuffling and the water dripping from the showers. 

She’s in the process of putting on her second shoe when Lexa startles her from behind a row of lockers. 

“You need to work on your footwork,” she says. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“If you want to make it to the first-string, you need to improve your footwork. And work on your stamina. You’re not quick enough.” 

Even though Clarke recognizes what Lexa is saying as helpful, she can’t help but feel offended. Perhaps, it’s because it’s coming from the team’s captain, a girl who’s always been around Clarke, and who calls her kiddo and little Griffin that she can’t help but feel that Lexa is patronizing her. 

“I caught up to you, didn’t I?” 

“You did. And secured the opposite team a sure goal in the process.” 

“Are you really saying that you _always_ score on a penalty kick?” 

Lexa shrugs merely but doesn’t elaborate further. To be fair, she is the youngest team captain in the school’s history, not to mention the player who’s scored the most goals across the nation. That’s why some idiotic people have nicknamed her _the Commander_ , but Clarke refuses to acknowledge that. 

Clarke feels the same frustration from the field build up in her again, but since she can’t really slide across the locker room floor and tackle the other girl again, she uses her words instead. 

“Well, thank you for the soccer analysis, but I think I’ll leave the coaching to Titus.” 

Lexa narrows her eyes, “Titus has no intention of training you to become first-string.” 

It isn't exactly news flash that our Coach had no intention of using his time or energy on training the second-stringers more than he needs to. Everyone knows he only cares about Lexa and getting her a scholarship to the college he will be coaching next season instead. 

“And you suddenly do?” 

Clarke isn't sure if that's fair of her to say. Lexa did, in fact, offer some kind of constructive feedback. Something Clarke has yet to receive from her own coach. Still, Lexa has never taken an interest in her before, barely even spoken to her, even though they have spent far too much time around one another. 

“Fine. I was simply trying to help, kiddo,” Lexa says, before she turns around to the door, “I hear college scouts are desperate to see second-stringers _not_ play any matches this season.” 

The door closes behind her, and the sting of the truth burns Clarke on the inside of her chest. Still, she would rather work harder herself and make the first-string before the season starts than take any help from her step-brother's best friend.

* * *

Outside, the rain is pouring down in cold, windy waves. Clarke is grateful the weather had at least been somewhat merciful during practice, but with wet hair and the warmth of the shower slowly leaving her body, walking home is the last thing she wants to do. Her mother has told her more times than she can count that Clarke can always catch a ride with Lincoln, her step-brother, but Clarke will rather walk in the pouring rain than spend more time with him than she needs to. 

In front of her, she sees Lexa walking to her car that is parked just outside the clubhouse. It’s an old car, clearly a hand-me-down, but potentially also a vintage. Clarke is standing underneath the shed at the entrance, waiting for the rain to subside just a little. 

When Lexa reaches her car, she unlocks it but stands still in the rain for a couple of seconds. She opens the car door a little, but then changes her mind and closes it again. 

“Do you want a ride or not?” she calls over the rain, just loud enough so Clarke can piece the words together. 

Every freezing fiber of Clarke’s being wants to scream yes and run inside the car, safe from the stormy night, but she also hasn’t forgotten their conversation from minutes ago, and as it often is with her, her head wins the fight. 

“I can get home myself, _thanks_ ,” Clarke says and ventures out in the rain, determined to prove her independence to the other girl. 

“Whatever,” Clarke hears Lexa mumble under her breath as she gets in her car just as Clarke walks past her. 

She hears the engine start, and a moment later Lexa drives past her. Clarke can only watch as the car disappears down the street and wish she had at least brought an umbrella with her. 

The walk home is horrible. She’s drenched from top to toe when she hurries up the driveway and quickly locks herself inside her house. The rain is dripping off her jacket and skin as she stands there in the entrance, not really knowing where to start with the wet clothes. 

“You look like a drowned mouse, kid,” someone comments from the hallway. 

Clarke looks up and sees Anya make her way to the living room. Clarke peers inside the room and is not surprised to see Lincoln and Lexa on the couch, munching on some delicious looking pizza. They look up to at least acknowledge the presence of Clarke, but as Lincoln looks away again, Lexa continues to look her over with an expression that makes Clarke’s skin crawl. 

She does not want Lexa’s pity. 

“Do you _always_ have to hang out here?” Clarke asks annoyed as she starts ripping off her scarf and jacket, “I mean, I assume there must be other places for you guys to go after practice. Otherwise, we should really start to collect rent soon.” 

Lincoln, Anya, and Lexa just stare at her, one more amused than the other. Clarke is used to Lexa and Anya spending a lot of time in the house, her house. They have been since Clarke was much younger, and since her mother and Lincoln’s father are rarely home, it usually feels comfortable with some life in the house. Today, however, Clarke would’ve really appreciated not coming home to Lexa after the practice they had. 

“Pizza?” Lincoln asks, making Anya burst out laughing, and at least make one side of Lexa’s mouth twitch, which is quite an accomplishment, as Clarke has come to learn over the years. 

Clarke grunts and rolls her eyes before she storms upstairs to the bathroom to dry off. Lincoln is the most annoying person she knows, and that is saying something since he’s a guy of very few words. His mere presence, however, more than makes up for that. When Clarke’s father died in a car accident when she was four, Clarke's mother, Abby, had managed to fall in love with the lawyer who was suing the other driver for reckless driving. The lawyer was Lincoln’s _married_ father. 

Clarke manages to get out of her wet jeans, then, and her wet socks and shirt quickly follow. Despite having already used enough amount of water today, she decides to quickly jump in the shower again, just to warm up her body again. 

She drapes the towel around her chest and puts her ear to the door to hear if the coast is clear. She can’t hear any activity in the hallway, so she hurries to her own room and closes the door after her. 

Both her and Lincoln’s rooms are quite spacious. The house, in general, is way bigger than they need, but with a Chief of Surgery for a mother and a lawyer for a step-dad, Clarke figures no expenses needs to be spared. 

Where Lincoln prefers to keep his room decorated quite simple, Clarke prefers to employ the Scandinavian concept of _hygge_ in hers. The walls are white but decorated with different works of art – either her own, or replicas of the work of some of her favorite artists. All the lighting in the room is a warm white with several fairy lights decorating the space above her bed. In the corner, there’s an easel with the abstract painting she’s currently working on, and on the desk next to it, there’s a mess of papers and different types of pencils for drawing. 

A mouth-watering smell turns her attention to the said desk. On top of a stack of books, there’s a plate with two slices of pizza with a note stuck to it. Clarke narrows her eyes and grabs the note. 

_I did offer a ride...  
L. _

Clarke stares at the note for several long moments. She wonders if Lincoln asked Lexa to bring her some food, but that would be a first. She’s pretty confident Lincoln is as thrilled about his friends having any sort of contact with Clarke as Clarke is thrilled about Octavia drooling over her step-brother every chance she gets. 

In the end, Clarke decides not to overthink it. It’s a nice gesture, a peace offering at most. She grabs a piece of pizza and decides to accept it.


End file.
